Prodigal Son
by Ankh-Ascendant
Summary: Seth through the eyes of his father. Aknaudin thinking of his son after his return, on his failings and achievements.


Prodigal Son

I have always understood Seto.

Ever since he returned, it's as though I've instinctively understood him. He's not an easy person to understand – or even want to understand. And yet, I've just known.

He's incredibly smart. I've known that since before he was two years old, when I sent him away with his mother. He's a prodigy... not at any one thing, like the children who are singled out to be trained as sorcerers, but at everything. At life. Anything he sets his mind to, he can master in no time at all, no matter what it is. His studies – raised as he was, where he was, he came here with barely more education than a common peasant. Now not only can he read perfectly – he had only the barest understanding before – but he could be a scribe, if he would settle for that. Combat... he sees the pattern, the strategies, before you even tell him what to look for. Magic – he's years ahead of where he should be already. In a few years, he'll have to learn from Mahaado, because there will be no one else above his level.

Perhaps I am prejudiced. Biased, on his side. But I believe everything I say about my son to be the absolute truth.

Because he is such a prodigy, he has no patience. When he wants something, he's used to being able to have it, or at least work toward it, immediately. He's always been able to learn things almost at once, I imagine, and so he has no patience with those beneath his level; most, if not all, of the rest of us, in other words.

And with that... he's utterly incapable of relaxing... of taking a break or slowing down. He's had to work hard for everything, and so he works hard, all the time. I've had to take his studies from him so that he would eat before. I don't think he sleeps more than four or five hours a night, either. There's no way that my telling him to step back and relax will work, either; he has no patience with us, and no patience with the advice we have to offer unless he asks for it. He'll have to learn the hard way anything he learns.

With his genius comes pressure, from himself if no one else. Because of his brains he feels obligated to be better than those less intelligent than he is, so he's under constant pressure to be the best at everything, the most worthy and the most hard-working, the most mature. He's constantly competing against everyone he meets, and luckily usually wins. As I've seen since he's met Mahaado... a Seth who loses his private contest is a Seth who will overwork himself until he bridges the gap.

He denies himself friends, even companionship, among his peers. I believe he only accepts my tutelage and even my company because I am so much older than he is. It seems right that I should know more than he and actually be able to help him, where it seems unacceptable to him even in those like Mahaado, older but not enough older.

I only wish I could help him as he deserves, give him what he deserves. His rightful title, if nothing else, not of High Priest but of Prince. He has worked so hard throughout his life. I wish I could give him his place of honor and allow him to relax, finally...

And if not his rightful title and place among the Royal family, then just a father...

But no, I cannot, for if I did so I would put him in grave danger, still. And he would never understand why I abandoned him... At least now I can be his mentor, watch out for him and take care of him without him really ever knowing what I am doing. If he never knows who I am, I will be happy.

Ah, Seth. My son, who is so much more than normal. Who would rather die than be normal, even if he doesn't recognize that part of him...

I cannot deny him anything. He would be confused if he knew that, even if he knew why. Sad though it is, I don't believe he understands normal emotions. If he has them, he represses them until they turn into something he can deal with... anger. He's an angry young man... I believe he is actually a sad, lonely young man, but he's pushed those both so far away that they only make him angry, defensive. They make him separate himself from others and work that much harder.

I am fiercely proud of him, though, despite these things, even if I have no right to be. I gave up that right nearly fifteen years ago when I gave up my son. I do have the right – the obligation, nearly – to admire him, again despite these things, and I do so, every day. And... I feel sorry for him. He would say that no one has that right; he would be angry with me for daring to care about him.

As long as I don't openly acknowledge it, however, he accepts it, for which I am grateful. He doesn't always drive people away entirely; with some time and patience, eh may even have a life, and friends, and accept that people care. And perhaps even care back.

My son may be incapable of loving, or understand love, and I know that is my fault. That will not stop me from loving him, however, nor from trying to help him in any way I can. At the least I can be someone who understands him, and it is some small part of what he deserves...


End file.
